


Declaration

by Bloodsbane



Category: Naruto
Genre: Friendship/Love, Introspection, M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 18:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16124630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsbane/pseuds/Bloodsbane
Summary: If he had been asked, as a child, to describe Maito Gai, Kakashi thought he would have described his peer as something like ‘a flailing bundle of sticks tied together with very loose string’.





	Declaration

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! So, man, it's been like... at least a whole decade since I've written a Naruto fic. I actually don't think I've written anything for this fandom since I left Quizilla! So, yeah, about a hundred billion years.
> 
> I've been dipping my toe back in though, most obviously enjoying Kakashi/Gai in a way I hadn't when I was younger. I've already been through the tag on here about three times already, hah... Got to that point, y'know! If you can't find what you want (or have desperately devoured every scrap of content already existing, in this case), make some yourself!
> 
> Anyways yeah so I'm probably really out of practice; I haven't actually watched the anime in years. Fics and wikis have been my refresher, so sorry if any details are off. This fic is pretty general though, so I hope it won't be an issue anyway~
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Idk if I'll write more for this ship but who knows, we'll see. I'm really into these dorks lately, hah.

If he had been asked, as a child, to describe Maito Gai, Kakashi thought he would have described his peer as something like ‘a flailing bundle of sticks tied together with very loose string’.

He knew this would be the case because this was before everything, and before Kakashi had learned to appreciate certain things. Least of all Gai, who at that point was little more than an eccentric loudmouth. Desperate for attention in general and Kakashi’s specifically.

To his credit, Gai had always been difficult to ignore, despite what everyone thought and the way Kakashi used to lie to himself. It was hard to ignore something so graceless, emphatic and kinetic in both mind and manner. Endearing in the way only a younger child can be, though not to other children. Thus Kakashi’s early years had been foolishly spent attempting to dismiss him, seeing only string and sticks.

~  

As a sapling grows, Gai grew. They both did, though Kakashi wouldn't dare say his segue into adolescence was anything but messy, a stop-stutter- _lurch_  that left him always with that sensation of falling, like his stomach had fled him for good.

Meanwhile, through all of it, their rivalry burned.

It became at once easier to dismiss Gai and harder to ignore him. He was becoming more resilient than ever, the trunk of his body growing into something that would last. Kakashi wasn't around to see much of that progress. He thought somehow that saved him, because it forced him to really take note, to _see_ ; every time he returned from a weeks or months long ANBU mission, he would have to see Gai again with fresh eyes.

In the time between ivory masks and blood, they had challenges, no longer so rarely given but hard to come by nonetheless. That made them sharper, more heated, and Kakashi justified his need to  _know_  Gai as a need to stay ahead. So he paid attention in a way his younger, idiot self had not.

When they spared he saw it best. Gai’s limbs were still gnarled, twisted bundles, but the string was not so loose anymore. Kakashi thought of the ways trees grew through anything, making something other a part of itself--how many times had he seen kunai or senbon or even something like a sword consumed by the flesh of a tree? Gai took a decade’s worth of dismissal and pain and had swallowed it up into his trunk, branches, roots, so his foundation became something steely.

A lot of his form was still unpolished, underdeveloped. The string--it was loose. But during one of their longer spars, drawn out to the point they had fallen into a familiar groove, bodies moving defensively, cautiously, and therefore more instinctively than anything, Kakashi realized: it wasn't because Gai was not skilled or could not learn. It was only compared to Kakashi that he seemed to fall behind. No, this presumed lack of focus only showed he was far ahead of his peers now. It occurred to Kakashi that Gai had reached a point where he’d surpassed the teachings which could be freely given. Gai was starting to develop his taijutsu at a level where few others could effectively nourish it; now, the work must be done by his own hands alone.

Gai was breaking away from the pack. Running after Kakashi. When they finished their spar, Kakashi remained ahead in the count, but something that sounded a lot like his father told him this lead would soon be a thing of the past.

~

Gai not only caught up to Kakashi, but as they aged into their 20s, he grew in leaps and bounds. It was almost dizzying to witness. Or maybe dazzling would be a more honest description.

Maito Gai was bright and loud as the sun reflecting, off water or glass or the edge of a kunai. Or his teeth. He was, at that point, as fast as Kakashi and at times faster. His power had taken root, his body was a network of steel and earth, blood sweat and something like lightning. The Green Beast of Konoha.

And there came a day when Kakashi blinked, glanced around at their fellow shinobi, and realized none of them saw Gai. They didn't look at him. Appreciated his skill as a ninja, of course--you would have to be daft or dead not to. Liked him, because they had all grown up fast and even if they weren't what you might call  _mature_  or  _well-adjusted_  young adults, they had learned manners and Gai was sweet. Kind, in that real and honest way most shinobi were not. Helpful, reliable, passionate.

But not so admirable, it seemed, and sometimes Kakashi wanted to grab them by their jackets and shake them until they understood. How could they not see it? It was in the way Gai moved, finally tied tight at his elbows and knees. The way he slipped into that stance at the start of every spar, one hand behind his back like a promise, the other outstretched, inviting. The way his eyes shone like fire, hotter with every gate he burst off its hinges.

On squad missions, after fights, Kakashi found himself to be the only one left breathless. And eventually he turned the question around, understood what he was really asking: was it more strange that his fellow shinobi seemed oblivious to Maito Gai and all that he was, or for him to be the only one watching?

~

Then came Rock Lee, and Kakashi finally understood some things.

First was that Gai truly was one of a kind, because even when he had a little clone following him around, it was obvious (at least to Kakashi) that Lee was a disparate entity. He gave off a very different impression from the older jonin, though the fact he could match Maito Gai’s level of enthusiasm for taijutsu was impressive.

He worked as a perfect proxy, highlighting all the things which made Gai unique. Rock Lee was slightly more waifish than Gai had ever been at his age, closer almost to Kakashi’s body type. Taller, too, than pre-teen Gai. His eyes were round like little moons and he had naturally prominent, dark lashes. His childishly soft face took to the bowl cut a little more easily - Gai had needed to grow into it, given how the smooth hairstyle contrasted sharply with his newly developing cheekbones and jaw, leaving them awkwardly exposed on his young face.

Then came their taijutsu, and it was here Kakashi was able to pin down exactly what about them was so special.

Rock Lee, even at the start, possessed a sort of innate grace in the way he moved. It was something Gai had never demonstrated, and only achieved after years of perfecting his form. It really was a shame the way Lee saw himself as inferior next to the prodigal Hyuga Neji, because he clearly had some natural talent. It overflowed from within him, expressed through his fighting, his energy, his voice. Kakashi thought it must be in no small part an issue with his chakra; as a child unable to properly use ninjutsu or genjutsu, his outlets had been limited. The flow of his chakra, rather than moving through him like blood, convexed into a whirlpool trapped deep in his core. It wasn't until he began training exclusively in taijutsu that he was finally able to rework his chakra flow, finally allowing his potential to come to full bloom.

Which sounded like something Gai would say, and Kakashi was sure he had at some point.

But no, what really caught the jonin’s attention was how their taijutsu differed despite being teacher and student. Lee’s body moved like he was born to become a master of the craft, rather than having it be his only means of progressing as a shinobi. Gai had always seemed to face his need to depend taijutsu as something like a challenge, though not one he ever begrudged. Kakashi was sure that even if he'd had any talent with other techniques, he still would have specialized in taijutsu. But the way Lee took to it was something else. It was only after a particularly dour solo-mission, alone in the woods on his way back home, that Kakashi was able to wax a little poetic and at last find the words to describe it.

When Rock Lee fought, it was like a song. Something written inside of him, something that needed release. His body was the instrument and Gai taught him how to hold it, tune it, play. And the results were his voice. His taijutsu was like a song, overjoyed simply in being able to exist.

It was beautiful, in a way, and Kakashi found himself overwhelmed with something like…  _gratitude_ , or maybe peace. Lee was so lucky to have found himself in Gai, someone who was able to help him reach his full potential, become his truest self.

That night, under a broken canopy where he could peek at stars, Kakashi wondered after one last fanciful thought...

~

Kakashi was sad, when it happened.

That was a gross oversimplification of his feelings, Kakashi thought, but he had been mostly out of touch with  _those_  for a long time. Really, always on the edge of being overwhelmed--it felt safer to keep them at arm's length.

But there could be no keeping this away. Gai had become fire, and in a glorious flash, their lives turned to autumn.

It could have been worse,  _so much worse_ , and Kakashi would never forget that. They all owed Naruto so much, but Kakashi wasn't sure if he'd ever he able to convey just how much the kid had saved for him. He'd have to really start putting in the effort to try. Naruto was owed that much, even if that was all Kakashi could offer.

It took a few months for Kakashi to process things enough to understand his melancholy. Everything was so everywhere, even now when the world held its breath, trying to be quiet. He would be Hokage, and that required a lot of mental stamina to prepare. Most days Kakashi could barely keep track of where he was, who needed him and why; he was grateful for the autopilot his body had developed to cope with everything, years and years ago. It came in handy, allowing Kakashi to coast though necessary speeches and paperwork until he could finally come back to the hospital.

For a while he thought it must be sadness for Gai. The man had lost so much, after all, certainly more than what was fair. He’d handled the news about his leg--and subsequently, his career as a shinobi--better than most would, though. Gai had said, on one of those cold nights when they were properly alone, when he would hold Kakashi’s hand so gently, that he'd known what he was ready to give up. In comparison, his life and the lives of those he loved--

It was more than he deserved.

Kakashi had wanted to hit him, but opted for a different approach instead.

~

Summer is at its peak when Gai tells Kakashi that he loves him.

The man is surprised when it happens. Then he's surprised that he's surprised, and it makes something in the very back of his mind finally  _click._  He doesn't have enough time to dwell on it, too busy fumbling to tug on a mask that isn't there. There would be no hiding from this.

They've been living together for almost a year, at that point. The old Hatake clan property was finally seeing some use; Kakashi had been achingly glad to find being there no longer felt as haunting as it used to. Gai helped smooth the rough edges of lonesome, painful memories when they installed ramps and replaced cobblestone paths in the gardens. The main house was never so empty as it had once been, filled with deep laughter and books and hand weights and visits from their kids. And dogs, and turtles. And sunlight and breezes.

That night, as they lay in bed, Kakashi thought on it. He came to understand the confession--could it even be called that, now?--startled him not because it was surprising. It was because he already _knew,_ and had known for quite a long time, what he and Gai were. How they felt about each other.

If Rock Lee’s way of life--his taijutsu, his spirit--was something like a song, than Gai’s body and mind and the way he fought had always been a decelaration. Every movement he made, in or out of combat, was the man stating something emphatically, in full belief of its absolute truth. Gai might have inherited a penchant for flowery language from his father, but like any good poet, he never wasted a single word. When he spoke with his body, all that he was would cut through to the heart of what he wanted to convey.

A dazzling grin, a friendly thumbs-up: _I am Maito Gai!_

One hand a hidden promise, the other outstretched, inviting: _I will give you all I've got, Rival._

His back a broad, solid force, like an ancient tree standing steadfast against a storm:  _I will protect you. You can depend on me._

Fingers scarred pink where flesh had burned away, resting lightly on Kakashi’s palm:  _I am grateful to be here with you. Thank you for staying beside me._

The words ‘I love you’ were new, but Gai had been saying it to Kakashi for a long, long time. In every step of a race, every finger of  _paper_  laid out to be cut by Kakashi’s  _scissors_. Every piggyback ride or shoulder-slap, every arm around Kakashi’s waist in support:  _I love you._

He had seen the words spelled out for him in spars, when he and Gai traded blows like sweet nothings, one smile brighter than the sun, the other hidden. But it was there. Always.


End file.
